


The Slow But Inevitable Fall

by Taricha



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, F/F, Spoilers for Season 3, Spoilers for Season 4, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taricha/pseuds/Taricha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah had never held it against Jenny, giving in to the overwhelming urge to run, to get out. She just wished that Jenny hadn't run so far, hadn't left Sarah behind too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Slow But Inevitable Fall

**Author's Note:**

> My take on what happened to Sarah in between seasons 3 and 4. Thanks to lukadreaming for looking over this for me!

Jenny was sitting in their usual spot at the café, the sunlight illuminating her hair and leaving her glowing, radiant in a way that made Sarah's heart clench. She was reading through a worn paperback novel, licking her fingers carefully as she turned each page. It had been over two weeks since Sarah had seen her last, and though the days in between were filled with poring over Cutter's work and searching each and every anomaly for their missing friends, Sarah still felt the passage of time as a slow, dragging thing. She lived for these moments, when her schedule and Jenny's coincided, even if it was only for a lunch.

The waitress startled her out of her reverie, and Sarah waved off assistance and walked over to the table. "Hey," she said, catching a whiff of Jenny's perfume across the table. There was a flower shop near Sarah's flat and every morning she had to face the smell of gardenias if a breeze picked up, blowing memories in through the cracks in her walls.

"Sarah," Jenny said with a slip of a smile. Sarah remembered waking up to that voice, to soft kisses in her hair and fingers brushing across her skin. The familiarity of the sound hurt almost as much as the lack of it. "How are you?"

"As well as I can be," Sarah said, her smile false around the corners. "I've been busy at work." Her shins ached from running, and there were big, purpling bruises all up her left side, all from how busy she'd been. Without Cutter, without Connor, there was nobody left but her to interpret footprints and flora, to try to make sense of something so far outside of her field that floundering felt like a nice term for what she did each day.

Jenny's smile faded around the edges too. "I imagine," she said softly. "No sign of them yet?"

Sarah shook her head, the creeping edge of a bad memory flickering forward at the comment. "No, nothing yet." She pushed down the images of teeth, of someone else's blood on her hands, and looked at the menu, leaving it on the table so it wouldn't show the shaking of her hands. "I think I might try something new today. Perhaps a slice of pizza?"

Jenny's stillness was only momentary then she too turned to look at the menu, her long fingers skimming over the surface. "I think I'm feeling more like a traditional turkey sandwich."

A month ago, Sarah had broken down in tears at one of these luncheons, begging Jenny to come back to work, to come back to her. She understood better now and if this was the most she would get, well, she still wasn't strong enough to not take it. "Sounds delicious." Sarah pushed the menu away from her, hid her hands in her lap so Jenny couldn't see them shake. "So, how's work?"

Jenny shrugged. "Unexciting, uneventful." She snorted, her lips twisting wryly. "Though last week someone ate Steve's almonds out of the cupboard, which ended in devastation and rage."

"Well, almonds," she said lamely. "Very... tasty."

"Yeah," Jenny said with a laugh that was more polite than anything else. "Well, it keeps me busy, you know?"

"Yeah," Sarah said and she did know. She knew that Jenny didn't come over any more, that she was too busy doing PR and advertising for some restaurant chain. She knew that Jenny didn't touch her any more and she didn't phone either. Sarah knew, Sarah noticed, but Sarah didn't know if she was ready to let go just yet. Maybe Jenny felt that Sarah was part of her past, but this was still Sarah's present, and she would take what she could get.

"They're thinking of transferring me, actually," Jenny said, sudden and hasty, words breaking through the false pleasantries with all the heavy weight of a bomb. "To Birmingham. It's a promotion, really, with better pay, better benefits. I," she looked down at the menu, her fingers still and her eyes closed off. "I've already signed the paperwork."

Jenny's smile was shy, her lips soft and pink. When Sarah had known her, they'd been red with lipstick or bitten raw with worry. Sarah had never held it against Jenny, giving in to the overwhelming urge to run, to get out. She just wished that Jenny hadn't run so far, hadn't left Sarah behind too. Sarah's Jenny was gone now, replaced by a woman who didn't call, who didn't worry, who could sleep at night. It was wrong, but Sarah wanted the old Jenny back.

"That sounds great," Sarah said eventually, and her fingers barely shook when she raised her coffee cup in a toast. "To new opportunities."

"To new opportunities," Jenny said. Her smile was bright, and her hair spilled over her shoulder like liquid amber. She was beautiful, incandescent. Sarah had built them a future together in her head, filled with soft touches and gentle words. The clink of their cups together shattered that dream into shards, slicing Sarah apart with its collapse.

*****

A week later the bruises up Sarah's side had turned yellow and Jenny had already gone. In front of Sarah the anomaly glittered like a diamond, shifting and turning in the air. The air that came through was damp and smelled of mould and soil, the thick scent of a forest.

"Sarah, are you sure you want to come through with us?" Becker said, covered in body armour and guns. He looked like a walking armoury, and his brow was knitted tight with concern. He reached out and touched her on the shoulder. The ARC didn't have a vest that fitted her so there was nothing to dilute the warmth of his skin on the coldness of hers. "It could be dangerous."

"Yeah," she said, shaking her hair over her shoulder, forcing a smile for his benefit. "Yeah, I'll be fine." She shrugged, and her laugh came out tense and cut off. "It's my job, right?"

As she walked through the anomaly, she didn't bother looking back. She knew that nobody was watching her go.


End file.
